Have a Good One

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It’s the first warm day in a while. A man sits on the bench next to the main door. His hair is yellow as straw and equally straight. The blunt ends poke out above his ears in clumps. His elbow rests on a worn backpack. He’s holding a pickle…

It’s food pantry day. An open pickle jar sits beside the man on the bench.

He waves a spear at me, his smile wide. “Hey, there.”

“Bite of lunch?” I can’t help smiling back.

“Yep….”

Immediately, I look away toward the door. I’m thinking about the work waiting upstairs. No time for conversation.